


Climbing Trees, Scaling Walls

by batscain (eredursa), eredursa



Category: The Hobbit (Jackson Movies), The Hobbit - All Media Types, The Hobbit - J. R. R. Tolkien, The Lord of the Rings - All Media Types, The Lord of the Rings - J. R. R. Tolkien
Genre: Alternate Universe - Coffee Shops & Cafés, Alternate Universe - College/University, Alternate Universe - Gender Changes, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Alternate Universe - Rugby, Awkward Thorin, Dwalin Is A Softie, F/M, Female Bilbo, Female Bilbo Baggins/Thorin Oakenshield, I should go to sleep, I'm so sorry Mr. Tolkien, Kíli Is a Little Shit, M/M, Modern Middle Earth, Ori Is A Sweetheart, Party King Thranduil, Thorin Is an Idiot
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-05-27
Updated: 2015-06-05
Packaged: 2018-04-01 10:48:35
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 7,855
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4016881
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/eredursa/pseuds/batscain, https://archiveofourown.org/users/eredursa/pseuds/eredursa
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Bilba Baggins has been having trouble sleeping lately but things are starting to look up when she finally finds a moment to herself in a secluded corner on one of the quiet floors of the university library. </p><p>It's the perfect time and place for a nap.</p><p>Or rather, it had been perfect until she was rudely awakened from her little siesta by the sound of dozens of books crashing simultaneously to the floor all because of some bumbling oaf in the stacks.</p><p>[Drabble-ish Bagginshield University AU in which Thorin is a borderline stalker and Bilba doesn't have time for shit.]</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. The Stacks I

Bilba Baggins liked to think that she was not a complex sort of person.

In fact, she knew that at the core of all things, she was not a complex sort of person at all. That is not to say that she was a simpleton, per say, but rather that she found her own brand of happiness through the simpler things in life and did not have to look for much in order to be perfectly content in any given situation. Her hobbies consisted of knitting, cooking, and reading whatever books caught her fancy at the second-hand bookstore she liked to frequent every other week whenever her workload was permitting. 

And what a workload it was. 

Due to extenuating circumstances that she would much rather forget about, Bilba had missed a good chunk of what was supposed to be her first semester of university and almost the entirety of her second semester entirely. As such, she had been forced to re-take the courses she missed over the past two summers while keeping up with the rest of the classes required for her program during the school year. She had been worried about the money involved going to waste but her estranged godfather, Gandalf, who just so happened to be the reason behind her absence that first year, was someone of importance to the University of Eriador and assured her that all of her bursaries would be deferred and held for her future use. He had even offered to fund any remedial classes that were not covered by her already generous scholarships so she hadn't seen any reason to not partake in whatever harebrained scheme the old coot had sought her out to endeavor upon. As it was, she had returned a changed woman.

And if she had also gained a slightly more pronounced aversion to arachnids of any kind... well.

Now at a respectable twenty years of age, Bilba had miraculously caught up with whatever schooling she'd been behind on and was now entering the second semester of what was technically her third year of university as a full-time BA student double majoring in Sociology and Anthropology (and on an over-load course status, nonetheless!) with an impressive grade point average that was well above the university's norm. Let it never be said that this Baggins wasn't a serious academic study! Not even Lobelia Sackville-Baggins could say other wise. Bilba couldn't help chortling to herself over the thought of the sour expression that her cousin's face would surely make should she ever find out how well her life was going at the moment.

Because Bilba's life really was going very well.

She had just completed her last midterm of the semester and four of the six papers that were due within the next week. Her mother had recently called from whatever country she and her father were currently traipsing about (this time somewhere in Europe; a Slavic country or some other) to let her know that a special care package was on its way in the mail. In addition, the little freshmen she'd been helping tutor had also called to let her know that they had just completed their last exams and that thanks to her tutelage, they were certain that they had passed.

There was also supposed to be a sale on meat and cheese at the grocery store later which in turn made her very, very happy.

She may have been having trouble sleeping lately but even things on that front were beginning to look up as she finally found a moment to herself in a secluded corner on one of the quiet floors of the university library. It was there that Bilba began to nod off between one thought and the next with her curly head pillowed atop her crossed arms. Truly, she thought, bless whomever chose to use create all these little alcoves. They were perfect for catching a quick nap amidst the chaos of academia.

Life was great.

Or at least it had been until she was rudely awakened from her little siesta by the sound of dozens of books crashing simultaneously to the floor as a heavily laden book trolley was knocked over and into another equally filled trolley by some bumbling oaf in the stacks. Jolting into an upright position from where she'd been resting against the table, Bilba twisted about in her seat trying to locate the dunderhead who had the audacity to disturb the peace and her much needed power nap. Whoever it was, they were swearing up a storm with some of the things they were muttering being indecent enough to make Bilba blush. 

For Mahal's sake, they were in thelibrary _._ They weresupposed to be  _quiet_.

It did not take her long to locate the cause behind the disturbance. A pair of the most gorgeous blue eyes stared at her from where a man stood at the edge of her table. He could easily qualify as one of the most aesthetically pleasing men she had ever had the pleasure of looking upon. Tall and of athletic build with impressive musculature, his thick forearms appeared to bulge out from under the rolled up sleeves of his dark grey Henley. His nose had a pronounced ridge, as if he'd broken it sometime in the past and hadn't reset it properly in time, which in addition to a full beard and a thick mane of black hair loosely pulled back into a bun at the back of his head, contributed towards a rugged sort of handsome. He was the sort of handsome that may not have been everybody's cup of tea but fit just about everything Bilba privately swooned over.

And swoon she did. He was simply standing there,  _not even moving_ , and she could still see the sloping curve of his bulging biceps.

Really? Sweet Yavanna, how was that even  _fair_?

All too suddenly she realized her perusal of his form probably hadn't been as subtle as she'd like to think. The heat of embarrassment began to work its way up the back of her neck as they remained where they were, her eyes neatly averted to somewhere over his (very high up) shoulders.

"H-hello?"

She hadn't meant for it to come out as a question but seeing as how the stranger didn't bother to deign her with a response or greeting of his own, she supposed that it did not really matter either way.  He had stopped cussing when she noticed him, instead opting for an unsettling, tight-lipped sort of silence as he seemed to tense in place. What she thought was supposed to be a smile but ended up looking like a grimace twisted his handsome features as his icy blues continued to drill holes into her poor head.

Okay.

 

...well then. 

In all fairness, the man really should have been the most aesthetically pleasing man she had had the pleasure of looking upon had he not continued to loom over her like some raving lunatic - with a glare frightening enough to make a full bed of daisy's wilt nonetheless! It also didn't help that the intensity of his gaze was making Bilba break out into a cold sweat. Awkwardly coughing to clear her throat, her earlier ire over being woken choose to then raise its ugly head. She wasn't quite sure what she'd done to garner such intense scrutiny but whatever it had been aside there was no valid excuse for his obnoxious behavior. He hadn't even made a move to pick up the books he'd so carelessly bulldozed over! Really, the nerve of some people!

And then he opened his mouth.

And the sexiest voice alive proceeded to say possibly the most unsexiest thing.

"You've got some drool."

Bilba blinked.

_What._

"On your chin. Drool."

Her mind short-circuited for a moment a hot flush slowly working its way across the bridge of her nose and the tips of her ears as what the man said registered. Mortified at being caught in such a state and more than a little aggivated over the man's apparent lack of manners - Really! What a brusque way of addressing a lady you aren't even acquainted with! - she scrubbed furiously at her chin with her shirt sleeve. She was unsure if she'd actually swiped up the drool or if there had even been any on her face to begin with. She arched a brow, questioning.

Mister Tall Dark Rude & Creepy continued to stare. 

"Anything else?" She sweetly ground out from behind clenched teeth. 

The man didn't answer and his stare was beginning to unnerve her. Bilba's raised eyebrow involuntarily twitched in annoyance. Sure that the man's cool gaze was condescending at best, a frown curled the edges of her lips downwards. Someone as attractive as him didn't talk to mousy girls like her, not unless they had to, and if they did there was almost always a group of equally attractive people watching from somewhere nearby. She didn't take kindly to whatever mocking thoughts the man and his hidden companions were surely thinking about her, thank you very much. Discreetly, Bilba glanced around the dark haired man for anymore attractive people conveniently lingering in the area. She saw none but was still suspicious enough to straighten her back and shoot the man a glare of her own as she lashed out crankily.

"Perhaps I've also got a bit of lettuce stuck in my teeth? Or maybe some pen on my cheek?" 

Bilba took note of the fact that he still hadn't made a move to pick up any of the books or to right the trolley that he'd knocked over. This in addition to his continued silence set her teeth on edge.

" _Well then_?"

He appeared to startle for a moment and then an odd disgruntled sort of coughing noise was made at the back of his throat before he proceeded to make the quickest turn around that Bilba had ever seen. He then stalked away in a huff, carelessly stomping over the fallen books with his ears tinged slightly pink. She watched him go in quiet surprise, her eyebrows threatening to disappear into her hairline at his quick exit. Her eyes were unconsciously drawn to his delightfully pert bottom as the man's long denim clad legs carried him away from her, glued to the sight until he marched around the corner and out of sight. The rosy flush from earlier hadn't quite left her yet and instead of fading, darkened. He may have been rude and she may have been sleep deprived but Bilba was woman enough to admit when a man had a cute bum. 

Several seconds passed before she caught herself still staring at the place where the man (and his bum) had disappeared. There was another crashing sound several more second after that, this time accompanied by the sound of furious muttering and the roaring laughter of another man. Sighing to herself, Bilba rubbed at her temples tiredly. So much for peace and quiet.  

Her napping mood was ruined.

And there were books still strewn about everywhere.


	2. The Stacks II

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Thorin had never felt more humiliated in his entire life.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Grumpy's POV with a little back story and Dwalin make's his debut.

Thorin Durinson liked to think that he was a pretty confident guy.

There were many things that made him an admirable individual, most of which should have lent to an accomplished sense of self.

He got good grades, arrived to all of his classes on time and submitted any work promptly following their assignment and well before their designated due date.

His current status as co-captain of Eriador's men's rugby team was awarded via popular vote as he had been toddling around the pitch since before he was out of nappies and after many years of playing various forward positions his experience had eventually racked up into something of a reputation. One of his past team mates had jokingly dubbed him "King Under the Mountain" after a particularly tough match in which he'd been playing hook and had gotten the ball back multiple times when it had been thought to have been lost under the crush of bodies, scrum after scrum. It was silly title but it had stuck all the same and stayed with him all throughout high school and well into his university career.

Since, more often than not, Thorin's time was occupied by school work or rugby practice he rarely ever found himself getting into any sort of unwarranted or illegitimate trouble. If there ever were problems, they were only little slights barely worth the gossip and easily fixable. His father, who was head of Durin & Sons, a law firm that had been established by his grandfather, personally saw to it that none of his children were caught in any negative media coverage. Not that Thrain had to do much covering up since his children, while sometimes ill-tempered, were generally well behaved.

Smart, athletic, easy on the eyes and bearing a well respected family name; Thorin had many things going for him. All things considered, he should have been  a very confident and courageous young man. So it really was too bad that in reality, hidden behind a carefully crafted facade of deliberately cool charm, Thorin was actually something of a coward. While he might be confident whenever it academics and athletics were involved it was not so for other areas within his life.

Like gardening.

Or cooking.

Or girls.

...

Especially girls.

Thorin did not like to admit it but when it came to the dating scene he was sorely out of practice. He could easily count out the number of dates that he'd gone on in the past two years on one hand (Three dates) and the number of said dates that had gone well sans the hand (None. They had all ended horrendously). That was not to say that he was exactly unpopular with the ladies, but he had been told on more than one occasion that he and the company he kept were somewhat intimidating to most. Due to his unconsciously standoffish resting face (Ahem, more commonly known as 'bitch face') few women made a habit of approaching him and preferred to admire him from afar. This was something that sat well enough with the dark haired man since he rarely met anyone in either appearance or personality that he found himself to be genuinely interested in.

On the rare occasion that someone actually gathered enough courage to proposition Thorin, he would more than likely be inclined to politely refuse any advances or offers for a date due to his short but terrible past experiences. His most used excuses were _I'm sorry but I have practice_ or _I've got to finish a paper_ and his all time favourite which was used whenever he'd just about had enough with the world: to grimace and walk away without a word.

The last one usually ensured that he wouldn't be bothered again.

It also did not help that all of his friends were male. The majority of them was composed of single lads who were interested in not much else other than the sports they played and drinking a pint at the Green Dragon, a modernized tavern-style pub downtown. Most of them had been classmates or distant cousins of sorts that Thorin had met during his formative years at the private all-boys school he'd attended for both elementary and secondary schooling. The few he'd met at Eriador were members of the men's rugby team or had lived in the same dormitory as Thorin during his freshman year. His friends were an eccentric bunch but they were good lads that were kind at heart and were, against all odds, just as unlucky in love as Thorin himself.

The only females he made an effort to interact with on a regular basis were his sister, Dis, and his mother. Both of his female relations were forces to be reckoned and were unlike any woman he had met, each being bluntly honest to a fault and incredibly stubborn. They did not mince their words and did not like it when other people spoke in a roundabout manner so Thorin had grown up treating his sister in the same way he treated his brother. It could be argued that he was simply treating everyone equally, but he generally came off as being rude. Based off of his interactions with his female relations  alone, it was difficult to get a proper gauge on how to act around polite company, let alone someone he was interested in.

Sure, he had his manners. As a member of the line of Durin he'd had them near beaten into him since an early age, grooming him into a perfect gentleman but even the hardest learnt lesson in parlor etiquette was easily forgotten in light of adolescent insolence. His awkward brand of acrimony was more of a force of habit than anything else.

It also wasn't as if he could ask for advice from either woman, both of whom would sooner tease and taunt Thorin into an early grave over girl troubles than be of any actual use.

Nope, he'd have to stick to making himself scarce and hope that someday, somewhere there was a woman who could put up with his bullshit.

The current lack of possible romantic partners did not bother Thorin as much as it should have since he was content to wait. He'd barely given the female student population of Eriador a passing glance as he did not feel the need to seek out from amongst them a romantic companion. Besides, there had always been other things in his life, things of greater importance that required his attention. He saw nothing wrong with waiting for his special someone because surely - whomever they were, wherever they were - they would understand that he had a very singular set of priorities. They couldn't possibly begrudge him his dreams of one day opening up a business of his own or securing some high paying executive position in the city, university diploma in hand.

Maybe he would be labelled naive for such thoughts. Or perhaps even ignorant at the worst, but the idea of there being someone out in the world that was _meant_ to be with _him_ was one of his most fiercely guarded secrets. Silly as it was, Thorin could not deny that he was secretly an old fashioned romantic at heart - something he had likely inherited from his mother - but that was for him to know and for Dwalin and his nephews to preferably never find out lest he suffer the brunt of their painfully incessant mocking.

He had gotten through the past couple of years with his heart relatively unscathed and was content to suffer yet another year of late nights and eight AM lectures without the undue stress and drama that came along with any interactions with the fairer sex. After all, his mother and Dis provided him with enough feminine grief to last him well into his thirties.

Of course, the not-quite solitude that Thorin enjoyed was not something that lasted. At least, not once _she_ had literally walked into his life.

It had been sometime around Christmas just as the finals for the semester had been wrapping up. The university's library was a thrumming with activity, all of the tables and carrels had been filled as harried students crammed for their last exams. Thorin, who was lucky enough to be done for the sem, was on the fifth floor of the library absently browsing through the stacks for the past half hour. He'd been pawing at a few old leather bound tomes in the English lit section to pass the time as he waited for his nephews to finish their tutoring session. The vibrating text alert had gone off just as he'd been replacing a battered hard cover copy of _Pride & Prejudice_ (it was one story that he secretly never tired of) onto the shelving unit so he fished his phone out of his back pocket. It was a short text from Kili letting him know that he and Fili were done for the day, a second text following shortly after the first to tell Thorin to meet them by the study tables parallel to the east facing bay of windows. He had shot off a quick response, tucking the phone back into his pocket as he moved out of the aisle when a brief flash of gold colour in his periphery caught his notice.

The slightest bit of intrigue itched at the back of his mind as he stepped around the closest bookcase, his eyes unconsciously seeking out movement in the direction the colour had gone. He was partially surprised upon finding, half way down the long  aisle he had turned down out of faint curiosity, a short curly haired woman dressed in a charming maroon cardigan that had come to stand in front of one of the towering bookcases. An olive green fur-lined parka was folded over the crook of one elbow while a brown leather satchel was slung over her shoulder and across her torso, the strap sitting between the valley of her breasts. The woman seemed to think for a moment as her eyes perused the titles spread out in front of her before finding whatever text she'd been looking for and plucking it from the shelf. Her face had been partially hidden from Thorin's view as she went about her business but from what he could see of her after a brief once over, she was decidedly lovely.

She was a little thing, possibly a full head and shoulders shorter than him with a surprisingly sun kissed complexion despite the winter season and deep honey hued ringlets that were piled generously atop her head. The flash of gold had to have been from her hair catching under the light streaming through one of the skylights. He continued his examination of her, eyes lingering on the subtle curving lines of her neck and back, and then on her shapely legs clad in a pair of skinny fit khaki coloured jeans as she moved away from the shelf book in hand.

He may not have had many successful past dalliances and often made a point of avoiding interacting with females of any age outside of his kin but Thorin was still a young, hot-blooded male that could appreciate a good looking woman.

And by the Maker's Breath was this a good looking woman.

He hadn't thought that he'd even had a type but if he did then the woman before him would be it.

As she came closer he was aware that he was standing in the way and staring like an idiot but he could not quite find it within himself to care all too much since it gave him a perfect visual of the woman's face. A light smattering of freckles were scattered across the bridge of her small, rounded nose which twitched absently and Thorin found the innocuous action to be incredibly endearing. She had a heart shaped face with high cheek bones and thickly lashed eyes beneath a proud brow. Her lips were a subtle pink and Thorin could not help but wonder if perhaps she was a nervous lip biter.

An unbidden jolt of desire shot through him at the thought of ever gaining a chance to find out. The urge to tangle his fingers in her honeyed golden locks and pull her closer made itself known and suddenly Thorin found his mouth going dry and his palms clammy. He felt himself overheat at the thought of her sweet lips on any part of him.

Thorin was shaken out of his embarrassing reverie by the slightest of pressures against his side and upon looking down in surprise he found that the small woman who'd been the cause of his brief descent into debauched imaginings had been so immersed in her reading that she had failed to take note of his presence. He felt a faint niggling of annoyance at being overlooked so easily but it was easily quelled when his mind registered the soft press of her curves against his own hard planes and, while there were multiple layers of clothing between them and the touch had lasted less than a fraction of a second, Thorin had felt as if the world had slowed to a grinding halt as his brain shut down and his heart skipped a beat.

All too soon - or perhaps not soon enough - the woman was moving away from him, barely lifting her gaze from her blasted book and mumbling an absent minded apology as she skirted around him. He was awarded with the briefest flicker of warm brown eyes the colour of chestnuts (not looking at him of course since her gaze was still roving across the pages of her damn book) before she had slipped past, head still slightly bent to read and he turned to watch her go. His stare had fixed onto the subtle sway of her hips as she seemed to breeze through the stacks, easily avoiding any other obstacles before  disappearing out of sight around the corner.

Palms sweaty and still reeling somewhat from the too short encounter (and feeling slightly dirty for thinking of a complete stranger in such an improper way) he had walked to the study tables in something of a daze. A flush had worked its way across his face and heated the back of his neck as he sat down at his nephew's table, paying little attention to the questioning way Fili's eyebrows had risen and how Kili had looked at him with ill-concealed curiosity.

~***~

Almost two and a half months later, Thorin found himself unable to forget about the lass with the beautiful honeyed ringlets and gentle sloping curves. His nephews had been the first to notice his distracted behaviour, having been there the day he'd first lain eyes on her. They had wisely chosen to stay quiet about the matter until about a week after the encounter when Thorin had accidentally let slip that he had possibly seen someone he might be interested while chatting over lunch with his cousin, Dwalin, who had ostensibly let the knowledge of his interest be known to the two younger boys. Unsurprisingly, between the three of them, by the end of the week the entire rugby team knew about Thorin's dilemma.

Even Dis had been notified and she had dialed his number as soon as she'd been told. Her voice conveyed that she was over the moon at the thought of her baby brother quote on quote: 'getting his head out of his arse long enough to find love at long last'. Thorin had grumbled at that, it wasn't as if he were some middle aged bachelor so 'at long last' was something he took offense to although the 'head in the arse' comment had equally rubbed him the wrong way.

He'd been peppered with a multitude of questions by curious friends and family who had had good intentions at heart, simply happy that their favourite grouch was entertaining thoughts of re-entering the dating scene and possibly finding happiness but soon it grew to be too much to handle. So with the beginnings of a nasty headache (and a slightly bruised ego from all of the necessary ribbing involved), Thorin had retreated to the quiet of the library. Not that his mates hadn't immediately known to search for him there seeing as Thorin had made something of a habit to escape into the stacks along the top two floors of the library. They hadn't known why at first but eventually assumed that he was simply preparing for midterms and while that may have rang partially true, the real reason Thorin chose to regularly haunt the study halls instead of studying at home was because he'd been secretly hoping to catch another glimpse of the comely little woman that plagued his thoughts and dreams.

Which is exactly why he found himself sitting in the university library one sunny afternoon towards the beginning of March the Saturday after his final midterm exam. Thorin had been spending the past half hour switching between pretending to go over his notes from that mornings lectures and acting like he was making revisions to plays for the upcoming rugby match against the University of Gondor, secretly upset that he hadn't seen the object of his infatuation in several days. He was also hiding from his relatives who seemed to pick up on his somewhat sour mood and had increased their pestering efforts to glean whatever information on the woman that had caught his eye (probably in hopes of searching her out under the guise of being helpful) which had made him even more upset than he'd like to admit since he had no real information to offer them.

And it wasn't as if he could look her up on Google or through some form of social media. He didn't even know her name.

Not one to hide his misery, Thorin wore a sullen look as he scanned the surrounding tables and aisles for golden curls but found none and sighed. A couple of minutes passed with him scratching absent minded designs into the margin of his notebook before the subtle scratch of metal against carpet and a rough, accented voice alerted him of the presence of another person.

"What are ye' doin'?"

Thorin should have known that he'd be unable to escape his friends for long. Unbothered with hiding his annoyance over being disturbed, he looked up from his doodles and was met with the familiar sight of his bear of a cousin settling into the chair opposite him. It was an awkward sight since Dwalin had, for reasons unknown, chosen the one chair that had arm rests which now squeezed his thighs but the bearded man with the shaved head seemed comfortable enough in the tight fit quarters.

"What does it look like I'm doing?" Thorin bit back, tiredly waving to the various papers and binders covering the table top with a lazy flop of his wrist.

Dwalin was oddly being quiet for once considering how content he'd been to be a needling arse earlier that day. If Thorin was being honest, it had been him and Kili teaming up to interrogate him throughout this morning's practice that had driven him to retreat to the familiar sanctuary of the stacks. Dwalin scrutinised the dark haired man he viewed as being his best friend with narrowed eyes and  seemed to contemplate something for a moment. A mischevious twinkle (because it was a gods be damned twinkle) in his slate grey eyes proved to be unsettling, its presence not boding well for Thorin.

"It looks to me like your still pinin' after some wee pixie that's given you the slip."

Thorin groaned. So they were still on that, were they?

"What do you want from me?!" He asked with exasperation. He shoved away from the table, arms crossed and muscles tense as he straightened from his hunched position. The last thing he needed right now was to be further reminded of her and how foolish he was acting about it.

A raised brow communicated a volume of things and the larger was silent for another long moment before he spoke.

"Thorin, I know you and I know your moods," Dwalin said with a stern expression, "We're kin and have been best mates since before we could walk. I would like t' think that if there's a problem you'd know that you can  talk to me. I won't laugh, scouts honor...or if you cannae find the words then at least get your head out of your arse - you've been stinkin' up the air with your sourness for the past week."

The frown that had yet to leave Thorin's face deepened. This was the second time this week he'd been told to pull his head out of his arse (the first time being when Dis had rung for another update on how he and the mystery lass were getting on only to be disappointed by Thorin's lack of action) and he felt himself prickle at the comment. He silently bristled, glaring at the man across from him for a moment but when he saw that it did nothing his stiff posture loosened somewhat as he seemed to deflate with a sigh.

"It's stupid but I can't stop thinking about her. I haven't even had a proper conversation with her and I've only seen her a handful of times but..." Thorin gave a slight shrug, eyes downcast, "And I don't even know if she's available but considering my shitty luck she's probably well and taken."

Dwalin made a vague noise of sympathy. Settling his elbows on the table, Thorin seemed to sag before he spoke in a hushed voice. His shoulders were hunched up to his ears which were turning a light pink as if he was embarrassed to be caught talking about his feelings.

"For all I know she might not even like lads. She might not even be looking for anything... she barely gave me any notice, you know? Bumped right into me and didn't even spare me the light of day. I see her here a lot - see her reading fantasy novels or working on papers, and she always helps people find whatever they're looking for in the stacks. It's stupid but there's this cute little thing she does with her cute nose and it drives me absolutely mad - "

Had Thorin just used the word _cute_ in a sentence? _Twice_?

Dwalin gave him an unimpressive look and cut him off before the dark haired man began to delve any further, hoping to avoid listening to his cousin waxing poetry about some mystery woman. "I don't see where your problem is. Just talk to her - see if she's available and then ask for her number or something."

Thorin unfolded and re-crossed his arms, looking off to the side as he shifted uncomfortably in his seat. When he spoke his voice quieter, "I haven't seen her in two weeks which is odd because she's almost always here whenever I come. It's stupid but I half thought she lived here."

Dwalin looked at his cousin and friend, noting the depth of upset visible in the defeated slump of his shoulders and felt himself grow frustrated. He was frustrated at Thorin for being so pansy-assed about the entire thing and was even more so at the nameless mystery woman that was the reason behind Thorin's silly infatuation. Huffing to himself, Dwalin the rolled the sleeves of his shirt up and folded his thick arms across his chest, the multitude of tattoos he'd had done in black ink on full display along his forearms.

He shot his cousin a firm look, "If you ask me - which I know you won't but I'll tell you anyways - forget about her. It won't do you any good to continue on this way over some mysterious girlie you haven't even properly met."

Thorin felt his annoyance spike and opened his mouth to tell Dwalin that that was the problem - he _couldn't_ forget about her - but paused. It would do no good to take out his frustration on the other man so he instead chose to stay quiet and ended up pursing his lips as he bounced his leg in anxiety. Taking the Thorin's silence as an invitation to continue speaking, Dwalin's dark eyes slowly swept over the surrounding area before catching on something over the other man's shoulder. He hummed in approval, leant forward in his seat and spoke in a hushed voice.

 "Stop while you're ahead and forget about whoever it was you saw. Save yourself anymore unnecessary heartache, ya' ken? Perhaps find someone else to pine over since we now know you've got some interest in the ladyfolk, hm? Someone like that bonny little lass coming in at six o'clock."  

Thorin scowled as he twisted in his seat to look at whatever woman his cousin was offering up as replacement for the first person he'd had any sort of genuine interest in. He looked around expecting to see some bumbling floozy but what he saw instead made him freeze. His surprise lasted for but a moment before he quickly spun around with wide eyes and his heart beating faster than it should have.

"Dwalin," He hissed, ducking his head in excitement. He kicked the other man under the table,  "that's _her_!"

They both made to watch her, Dwalin looking from where he sat and Thorin peeping discreetly from over his shoulder. She was walking in their direction, likely headed for her usual table in one of the many alcoves, her satchel heavy with books. Today her legs were clad in soft leather calf-length boots and dark denim that contrasted nicely against an knit off-white jumper that was worn underneath the parka Thorin often saw her sporting. A dark red scarf was wrapped around her neck, the colour fetching against her skin and the honey gold of her hair which was neatly plaited to one side.  

Thorin watched her pass their table with wide eyes, heart briefly seizing with joy as he heard her quietly humming as she breezed by while paying neither man any attention. Dwalin observed the silly grin that had crept onto his cousin's face and released a low snort in amusement.

"By my beard, you've got it bad! And to think, Thorin Durinson: a man in love... I can see why you're so enamoured. Wait until the lads hear about this!" The bigger man shook his head in silent laughter, "Although, I cannae understand why you haven't spoken to her yet. You should do it today - woo her with the good ol' Durin charms or something of the sort."

A vaguely disbelieving strangled noise escaped Thorin as he gaped at the idea his cousin had proposed. Talk to her? Today?! He shook his head. He hasn't even shaved in three days and, with the lack of sleep he'd gotten due to the stress of exams and a longing in his heart, he probably looked as grumpy and tired as he felt. He couldn't possibly talk to her today, not looking like this.

Sensing his hesitation, Dwalin heaved a great sigh as he rubbed the back of his neck and gave his shaven head a shake. "What better time than the present, hn? Don't tell me that you've actually lost your wee ballsack in the last scrimmage? It's just a lass for crying out loud, man! I've watched your silly mug pine for nigh on long enough and if ye' do not stop soon you will give me gout."

Thorin had been thinking about this woman for a long time now.  Each time he saw her, he had told himself it would be that day that he manned up but he always ended up walking away from the library frustrated with himself. Every time he looked at her, he had grown more and more convinced that she was perfect. Too perfect. Definitely not suitable for someone like him who was self-admittedly boorish at the best of times. He definitely could not approach her, under no circumstances whatsoever lest he make a fool of himself. He would just have to learn to be content with simply looking at her - his existence would simply have to continue to be unknown to her.

Dwalin appeared to easily follow the other man's thoughts and decided that if he wanted to see his cousin talk to the lass sometime this century, he would have to be straight with his cousin. So he rolled up his metaphorical sleeves (since his real sleeves were already rolled), and leered at the quiet contemplating man in front of him.

"If you're going to keep being a fuckin' pansy about it then maybe I should nick the pretty thing for myself - seeing as how you cannae even work up the courage to do the deed yourself and all..."

That seemed to get through the man's thick skull. Dwalin privately gave himself a pat on the back as he watched Thorin puff up in response to the jab. Thorin launched to his feet, sending the chair he'd been sitting in abruptly backwards as he skirted around the table.

"You will do no such thing, Fundinson, or so help me I will knock your teeth in! I saw her first." He groused with clenched fists.

He knew that Dwalin only said it to get a rise out of him but the thought of anyone else getting to her first did not sit well with him. He muttered angrily under his breath and tossed a glare over his shoulder before walking in the direction they'd seen the woman disappear in.

"...like I'd let you get your grimy paws on her. I'll sooner jump off the roof before I let that happen."

 Thorin's angry growling faded as he moved further away from the table and when he was out of earshot Dwalin couldn't resist chuckling to himself over how easily it had been to manipulate his infatuated cousin out of his self-induced misery. He hoped that Thorin would make good use of the good old family charms but when barely a minute passed and he heard the loud crash accompanied by various sputtered expletives he grew somewhat concerned.

~***~

Thorin had thought, that after being so thoroughly provoked, he was prepared for anything but upon stumbling into a cart of books and making an enormous ass out of himself for standing amidst said mess and simply staring at the woman he'd grown infatuated with as she stared back in surprise he realized that he was wrong.  He hadn't been prepared at all and he wanted to throttle himself for it.

He hadn't been expecting to find her asleep, not since she must have sat down no more than a couple of minutes ago, but the sight was not an unwelcome one. Her expression had been peaceful and a few tendrils of her hair, shining gold under the sunlight filtering through the windowed roof of the alcove, escaped its plait and framed her sweet face. Thorin had been so caught up in the lovely portrait she painted that he staggered into a trolley of books and woken the beauty from her slumber. He had watched in fascination as surprise and displeasure flickered across her expression, savoring the way her pleasing features played into each emotion as she blinked owlishly. Her large tawny brown eyes searching out the disturbance before lighting upon his form. She openly stared at him with curiosity tinged with something akin to annoyance and before Thorin knew what was happening he was opening his mouth.

"You've got some drool."

In his defence, he hadn't actually thought through what he would do or say once he approached her since all he could think about was getting to her first. So when he spoke and she had merely gaped at him, his short circuiting brain was barely able to comprehend what had been said before he realized that his boorish nature had reared its ugly head. It was as if he had lost control of his mouth.

"On your chin. Drool."

In his chest, Thorin's heart seized and he could not help but briefly entertain the idea of jumping out the nearest window.

Oh. Oh no.

Thorin stared in shock over what was probably the most rude thing he'd done to date. The woman's raised eyebrow (a gracefully arched and well groomed eyebrow, his mind unhelpfully supplemented) appeared to twitch before her face transformed to completely adopt an expression that was scarily reminiscent to the one Dis made when extremely ticked off. He had to force himself to shut up before anything else escaped and the bronze haired goddess in front of him decided to run him through with a pen for the offense (not that he'd stop her since he was horrified and embarrassed enough to want to die).

"Anything else?" She ground out from behind clenched teeth. "Perhaps I've also got a bit of lettuce stuck in my teeth? Or maybe some pen on my cheek?"

Thorin could do little else but continue to stare. Even angry she was beautiful and he found the flush along her cheeks to be entirely becoming of her usually gentle features.

" _Well_?"

The back of Thorin's neck burned at he felt sick over ruining whatever chances he could have had with the woman. The taste of bile sat on the back of his tongue. Fully aware of how much of a simple-minded plebeian he must look to her, he spun around on the heels of his boot clad feet and fought to maintain whatever was left of his shattered dignity as he clamoured over the mess of books he'd knocked over, scattering a fair number of them in his haste. He could feel the weight of her gaze on his back as he retreated, heavy and full of what had to have been contempt.

A wave of nervous nausea rolled through Thorin before a secondary crash could be heard as the dark haired man now the color of a tomato fell into sight of the table he'd left his cousin sitting at, dozens of books spraying about him.

 

Forgetting about his prior concern, the absolute absurdity of the situation overwhelmed Dwalin as he gave a full bellied laugh. He was still laughing as he moved to help his cousin stand who appeared to be mortified over falling over and whatever he'd done while speaking to the lass.

Thorin was beyond embarrassed and shoved Dwalin's hands away. He could get up by himself, without the help of someone who saw fit to laugh at him. He hadn't meant for everything to go so _wrong_.

Sweet Yavanna. He had never felt more humiliated in his entire life.

Gathering himself into the chair he'd been sitting on earlier, Thorin clenched his hands into his hair as cried out in frustration over his current situation. His head thumped loudly against the tabletop just as his nephews had popped into sight.

 They both greeted Dwalin with a cheery, "Hello!"

Kili was the first to take notice of Thorin who had banged his head against the table a second time and peered around his brother to get a better look.

"Alright, Uncle?"

A strangled groan was the only response and Fili turned his attention to his mother's brother with a frown.

"Uncle?"

Dwalin thought it beneficial to disclose to the brothers what had happened to the best of his knowledge and moments later the sound of Kili's hysterical cackling and Fili's slightly more subdued chuckles joined Dwalin's booming laughter. If they heard the sound of Thorin bludgeoning his head against the table over the sound of their laughter, they said nothing about it.

Thorin gritted his teeth when after several minutes they still had yet to stop, snorting and chortling under their breath.

He loved his family, he really did.

He just hoped that they would eventually forgive him for murdering his cousin and two nephews in a fit of rage.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This has been sitting in an opened Word doc for the past week because nothing I wrote sounded right or forced but I've just finished up here. Its around half past 3AM where I am meaning I haven't combed over this nearly as thoroughly as I should have before posting but I've posted anyways. Please excuse any of the hiccups, I'll likely be reading over it again and making edits along the way.
> 
> Also I'd like to thank everyone who took the time to read chapter 1 and left comments or kudos! I greatly appreciate it and can hardly believe how great a response I've already gotten. So yeah, thanks! :-)
> 
> *shamless self-plug warning*  
> also if you're interested, check out my Tolkien-centric tumblr ( http://northernfaunt.tumblr.com ) which has links to other places I can be found on the internet + reblogged pictures/artwork for LotR and the Hobbit

**Author's Note:**

> It's probably pretty obvious who the bumbling oaf is *wink wink*  
> Next is Thorin's POV.
> 
> \--  
> Dodgy disclaimer: The Hobbit in all of it's various media types very obviously does not belong to me. The plot of this particular story is of my own making, though.
> 
> Main ship is Thilbo / Bagginshield with underlying Dwori and maybe some others (if you squint). 
> 
> This is my first post on AO3 and I am a broke university student trying to force the characters of this fandom to conform to something that probably has J.R.R. Tolkien rolling in his grave but is amusing to me (and hopefully you) nonetheless. I have a vague idea of where this is going but who knows what could happen. 
> 
> Also, I apologize for any grammatical mistakes/inconsistencies - I try to catch them before posting but sometimes my sleep addled brain decides that nonsense sounds better than sense (if ya know what I'm sayin'). Also also, in my mind, (my) transformative works don't necessarily require the same set of grammatical rules I would usually apply to something like an essay or paper. So really, the formatting of this (whatever this is) is going to be very loose or hella freestyle.


End file.
